


i think i've lost my mind (i'll help you find it again)

by lemonyscissor



Series: and i'll be okay (no i won't and this proves it) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Protective Wilbur Soot, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Wilbur Soot, Self-Harm, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, chapter, i cant spell, i was lying it's literally said in the chaptet, tommy is not okay, well it's actually kinda obvious, wilbur used to self harm, you can see it if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonyscissor/pseuds/lemonyscissor
Summary: it's wilbur's turn to take out the rubbish, and as he's emptying tommy's plastic little bin, he finds a sharpener without its blade, and he knows what it means without a second thought.orwilbur finds out tommy is hurting himself.if any of the people in this are uncomfy with this kind of thing, tell me and i'll take this down as soon as i can <3
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: and i'll be okay (no i won't and this proves it) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100693
Comments: 31
Kudos: 576





	1. why is there an empty sharpener in the bin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after finding a sharpener without its blade in his brother's bin, wilbur has to figure out how the fuck he's going to handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:: implication of self-h@rm , mention of sh@rp objects , swearing
> 
> hi darling! if you're not in a good place right now, please don't read this, please click off and give yourself a break, drink some water and calm down, take some time for yourself like you deserve, please <3  
> it's more of an introduction chapter than a proper one, but my point still stands.
> 
> i am in no way trying to romanticise the things mentioned in here, or say that the people involved feel like this, this is all written based off of my own experiences, i'm just projecting, and totally not with a pinch of me writing the comfort scenes like how i would've wanted someone to comfort me but never did aHA ANYWAY mOVING ON :'))
> 
> ily and enjoy <3

it's tuesday.

that means it's wilbur's turn to take out the rubbish, and as anyone would be, he's not exactly thrilled about it. he hadn't had a particularly good day, not that it'd been bad either, it'd just been quite _meh._ he was tired, to say the least. the only plans for that day were sleeping, until he threw his phone too hard and it broke. he didn't mean to throw it against the wall, he'd just wanted to sleep a while longer and not be bombarded with notifications of tommy spamming his phone with texts while he was at school, which on second thought, he probably should've taken a look at. that was only his first mistake of the day.

now wilbur had to deal with fixing his stupid phone, which would only take about fifty quid and he had enough, but he really didn't want to walk all the way to the electronics shop, so he decided that he'd fix his phone tomorrow. that was his second mistake of the day.

he came to the conclusion that his day was already ruined by minor inconveniences, so he might as well get his chore for the day over with and take out the rubbish, starting with his and moving onto tommy's. that was his third mistake of the day.

wilbur never pegged himself as too much of a nosy person, he was curious about the little things but knew his boundaries and when to leave it alone. well, most of the time.

this time was not one of them.

it's not like he tried to look through tommy's bin, more like he noticed the blue plastic, it brought memories to him and he couldn't help taking it out to see if it was what he thought it was. it was what he thought. that was his fourth mistake of the day.

the panic settled into his mind quickly, as many people would if they found a pencil sharpener without its fucking blade in their little brother's bin.

he'd started to think about things more thoroughly than he had before, like how tommy stopped wearing shorts for a short while, and then when he did start wearing them again, he switched to wearing long-sleeved shirts and hoodies and jumpers. he’d always subconsciously look at his sleeves and tug at and fiddle with them. he'd noticed it before, of course, but he thought that he was just overreacting, that that was just how his mind worked when it came to things like that, which was true, but in this case he was actually right.

what the fuck is he supposed to do now? tell phil? no, no he can’t tell phil. not yet, not without speaking to tommy first. how is he going to talk to him about something like this? he was never talked to, he doesn’t know how he would’ve wanted comfort.

tommy was still at school, that gave wilbur enough time to think of a plan, think of how the fuck he was going to handle this.

oh, right. tommy was at school.

tommy was at school.

he might have- no, no, no. did he bring his phone to school? no, of course he did, he's a teenager. he's not stupid enough to hide a blade in his room, well- no, he's not.

at least, not all of them. he most definitely has one on him. that thought scared wilbur.

if he was being honest, he didn't know if he even had the strength to confront tommy. he didn't know if he could do it or not, he didn't know if it would be too much for him. what if he can't do it? what if his mind goes blank right at the moment he's supposed to talk to tommy? what if- what if he-

no. no, no, no, _no._

he can't think like that. this is tommy. this is his little brother. it's wilbur's responsibility to do this, as his older brother. he can't ignore it, under no circumstances can he fucking ignore it.

he just has to wait. it's another three hours until tommy comes home, which yes, gives him time, but that's also a huge problem. wilbur is now forced to wait, sitting on his brother's bed, until he comes home. he has to wait while knowing this information. he would say that he would have preferred never knowing, but he doesn't, he knows he can't say that. that would be saying that he'd rather have his brother suffer in silence than confront him.

wilbur knows exactly what that's like, he's known for a long time, it's not fun, but he also knows the amount of anxiety there is when you know someone has almost found out, wilbur can't even begin to imagine how panicky it would make you if you knew that someone had actually found out.

just three hours.

three hours until tommy gets home.

three hours until wilbur confronts him.

three hours until wilbur potentially screws up his relationship with his brother for life.

three hours until wilbur makes things better or extremely worse.

wilbur was not prepared in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it, my anxiety is through the roof rn as it is every time with posting these haha :'D  
> i don't know if i'll be able to finish it or even do a next chapter, since i'm a huge procrastinator and my motivation to do stuff is practically non-existent, but i'll try c:
> 
> have a good day, take care of yourself, maybe leave a comment?? i don't mind, just please try to drink water and have a good sleep (if you can, just try your best and if you can't, it's okay, it's gonna be okay :))  
> ily


	2. tommy in the bathroom by himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy doesn't feel too good  
> he doesn't wanna go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you get the title and summary references i love you and ur precious <3)
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING:: self-h@rm , mention of sh@rp objects , non-graphic description of said self-h@rm , su!c!dal thoughts , like one mention of a!cohol , undertone of unhealthy relationship with food if you squint
> 
> not me waiting to make the confrontation chapter 'cause i almost cry every time i do-  
> aNYWHOOOO hi. i really, really rushed this whole thing, a lot, so, yeah. this one is more intense than the last, so please be careful reading it. if you're in a bad place rn, click off of this, get yourself some water, calm down, please <3

tommy was currently sitting on the floor of one of the stalls in the toilets, his knees pressed against his chest since there was no room to sit otherwise, and he didn't really want to sit cross-legged.

his hands were cold, they were so, so cold no matter what he did. he tried breathing on them, pushing them inside his hoodie sleeves, his pockets, rubbing them together. they were still cold. they were cold and shaking uncontrollably.

he tried to stop the shaking, he really did, but it only made him shake even more. he felt like he was about to break into pieces, disintegrate here on a dirty floor where nobody would find him. he had no control over his limbs, he didn't have any fucking control.

it's not like he could stay in the stall forever, unless he wanted to get into unthinkable trouble, and he didn't really want that. if he did leave any time soon however, everyone would see. everyone would see how pathetic he is, how fucking broken he is. he can't have that. he can't.

thinking about it didn't make it better, only worse. his eyes started stinging and he felt the tears welling up, waiting to pour down his face and make him feel even worse, if that was possible. his hands were brought up to the sides of this face, pulling on his hair and digging his nails into his scalp in an attempt to stop the tears, it usually worked somehow, but this time he just couldn't stop them.

his breathing was ragged and at this point he didn't give a shit, he just needed it to be quiet, he just needed nobody to hear him have a fucking breakdown in a toilet stall. he kept his mouth shut, desperately trying to swallow his breath, his panic levels going through the roof whenever it was too much for him to handle and he let out a shaky breath that was much too loud for his liking.

maybe it was better this way, that he'd remembered the fact that he'd doomed himself now instead of later.

or maybe if he never knew that he'd severely fucked up.

maybe if he just wasn't stupid enough to fuck up in the first place.

he'd be fine right now if he wasn't so stupid, so pathetic, so useless, so oblivious that he forgot that he'd carelessly thrown his pencil sharpener in his bin and left it there for his brother, the man he looked up to, to potentially find.

what the hell would wilbur think if he found it? he'd be so disappointed in tommy, he wouldn't want to be his brother anymore, he'd know he was pathetic, he'd know how messed up he is, he'd know and he'd tell phil and techno, and everyone would join together in being disappointed in him.

he always was the screw up of the family. he's loud and brash and doesn't know when to stop fucking talking, he bothers people constantly and doesn't even realise when he's hurt people's feelings, and now he's doing that exact thing. he's bothering wilbur by letting him know about his problems. 

he's bothering everyone by being alive.

he's so selfish.

maybe he should just fucking die, maybe he should slit his wrists here and bleed out, maybe he should just rot here on the floor-

stop. stop, stop, stop. he doesn't have the time to think like this. he can still fix this. he can still stop wilbur.

tommy leans forward and takes his phone out of his back pocket, collapsing onto the wall after he was done, why did such a simple thing take so much energy?

he held his phone with both of his hands in his lap, struggling to keep it still. the tears were coming so easily now, they were dropping onto tommy's screen and clouding his vision and he couldn't focus and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't do anything and oh god someone please help him-

he dropped his phone into his lap.

he's freaking out way too much about this, he just needs to get it over with so he can stop panicking.

he picked up his phone once again, he strangely felt a sense of pride when he went into whatsapp, like he'd made it. was he really so pathetic that something as simple as clicking an app made him proud of himself?

he really did try to make his texts have some sense, make them seem like they were normal and not coming from someone crying alone in a stall.

**big t**  
_wlbr_  
_wilrb_  
_wilbur_  
_i can take out trhe rubbish tiday_  
_you dont ahve to worry ahotu doingtahta so dont pls_  
_wilbur_  
_wilby_  
_dont atek out tne rybbis tioday pls_  
_wilrbuyb aplease_  
_ill do it_  
_please repsodn_

safe to say, it did not work.

tommy gave up immediately after that, not just on texting wilbur. he threw his phone to the side and collapsed his head into his arms, choked sobs pouring out of him. he wasn't used to audibly crying and he didn't really know how to, so most of the noises were small awkward whines and sniffles.

usually he'd keep on spamming his brother, but today he couldn't even bring himself to. everything was hard to do, why add to that? it's pointless anyway. wilbur is going to find out. he's going to be disappointed in tommy. everything will come crashing down. all because of tommy's stupidity.

nothing ever goes right.

he probably deserves it.

he deserves every single bad thing that happens to him.

it's his karma for being alive.

for thinking for one single millisecond that maybe, maybe he deserved to live. maybe he could be happy like everyone else. maybe he could have a normal life.

he shut those thoughts down a long time ago, as soon as they entered his mind. he'd never think that now. he knows better than that. he knows he doesn't deserve to be happy.

does he even want to be happy?

no.

he doesn't.

he doesn't even know how to be happy anymore.

it's a foreign concept to him.

every time he laughs he feels like throwing up and crying in a ball under the warmth of his covers.

even so much as a smile makes his eyes sting.

he can't show this, of course. he doesn't deserve to let others know about his problems, he doesn't deserve to bother them like that. though be may just be a selfish child, he knows that much.

he's spiralling and he knows it.

as much as he hates to admit it, he wants his brother. he wants wilbur. he doesn't want just anyone, he wants to be hugged and comforted by his brother. he wants the sense of familiarity from his voice and his scent, the way his voice goes soft and he speaks carefully when he's concerned. he wants to be cared for. he wants to stop feeling like this.

he knows he'll stop thinking this in a while. say to himself that it's stupid, and that there's no use in trying to get help. it's what he always does. contemplating telling someone and asking for comfort and then immediately shutting that idea down later, saying he's better off with no one knowing.

he's not. 

**☆**

it's been three hours.

he hasn't been out of the stall and he can't even remember what time he came in.

he's still sitting against the wall, the only difference being his phone case on the floor, sharpener blade on his knee, and about a dozen dried cuts sitting on his arms. there were small dried pools of blood in the red lines that kind of stung whenever they rubbed against the fabric of his sleeve, tommy was too unbothered to make any attempt of cleaning the cuts, instead just staring at them until they dried. none of them were too deep, he's never cut too deep since it just seemed like so much effort. just enough to make them bleed, tommy was content with that. he thinks.

tommy just wants to go home. he wants to crash down onto his bed and lay there forever, immersed in a deep, tranquil space called sleep.

he can't do that though, wilbur is home. it's not like he can avoid going home forever. can he? maybe- no, he can't. he's not stupid, he doesn't want to run away from home,,, does he?

he's not so sure about what he thinks anymore. he's not so sure about anything. his mind is blurry and all he can hear is a faint white noise that won't stop. it's annoying, yes, but he can't be bothered to do anything about it. usually, he'd get pissed off, but everything is so peaceful around him right now.

peaceful?

is that the right word?

he stopped crying about an hour and a half ago and now he's just staring at the wall with dried tears on his face and snot on his jumper. he's disgusting, but he doesn't care.

he feels like he could do anything right now, not exactly in a good way.

he could destroy himself more than he's ever wanted to in this moment, that's what he feels like.

he's always wondered what it's like to drink, properly. he's had alcohol before, of course, he lives in england, it's inevitable. though he's only ever had those cloudy lemonade vodka drinks, and yes, they were absolutely lovely but they didn't do anything.

he thinks about what it's like to get completely plastered. he's seen people like that, he's seen wil like that. they don't seem to have a care in the world, and it doesn't matter how regretful they feel the next morning, all that matters is how at peace they are in the moment. tommy wants that.

though, tommy wants a lot of things. he won't get most of them. they're more like a dream from far away that he can see but never quite reach. he doesn't exactly try to reach them, so he guesses that it's his fault.

he should probably get up at this point, he should probably go home and get the awkward talk over with. just thinking about it makes his stomach turn, but he knows it's inevitable. that doesn't mean he won't try his hardest to get wilbur to avoid it though.

he does get up, after staring into oblivion for a few more minutes. his limbs are aching and he feels like passing out the second he's on his feet, but he just opens the door instead. after taking about ten minutes to finally lean down and gather his stuff, he's finally out of the toilet.

there's a few people in the corridor but he's walking much too quickly to see who they are.

he's outside now and the back gate is open, there are students walking out but it seems like most of them have left already. 

tommy looks absolutely wrecked when he walks past the teachers standing by the gate, but he doesn't care because even if they did see him, they wouldn't do anything. the amount of anxiety attacks he's had in class that teachers haven't noticed, or did and just gave him a quick 'are you okay', is way too much.

he's been walking for ten minutes already and he only just noticed that it's been raining, he doesn't care either. he doesn't really know why people make such a big fuss over walking in the rain, it's fun, and even though people always complain that they'll get sick, he never does. he thinks people need to appreciate the rain more.

you can always hide your tears with rain, it's like a comfort buddy, it's nice.

it took him forty minutes to walk home, so he had thirty minutes left. he was bored, to say the least. he didn't want to think about what would happen when he got home since he didn't really want to feel sick with anxiety the entire time. he was enjoying his walk, boring as it was, why would he ruin it?

still, he took his phone out. he had a missed call from tubbo and seven messages. they always call each other after school, and every time tommy was late tubbo would do this. he wasn't so mean that he wouldn't respond.

 **tubbox  
** _tommyyyyy_  
_tommy tommy tommy tomyy_  
_bIG T_  
_dude were r u_  
_if u dont replyy_  
_i will_  
_ill do smth_

**big t**  
_clingy bitch_

he put his phone away.

normally, he would've called tubbo back, but he wasn't really in the mood, if you couldn't guess.

thinking about being in a bad mood made him nervous, so he decided to get something to calm his nerves, he really, really didn't want to be anxious right now.

he had a five pound note on him, so he thought that he could get fried chicken, sure, he'd extremely regret it later and probably cry himself to sleep about it but at this moment he couldn't care less, he just wanted to eat something.

now he's walking home in the rain with a box of chicken that will inevitably get wet, but that was future tommy's problem.

he's starting to pay attention to his surroundings this time around, it's pretty. well, as pretty as england can get. he was mesmerised for some reason, it's not like there was anything interesting, just the outside world being, well, the outside world.

he doesn't even realise how his finger nails are scratching his hand and leaving it red. he's too preoccupied for that. that was going to bite him in the back later, when he gets home.

speaking of home, tommy was so out of it that he didn't notice when he was on the pavement across from his house. the wall that he built to protect himself from the crippling anxiety was immediately knocked down, all of the feelings came as one giant wave and it was drowning him.

still, he had to go in. he,, he had to. he had to, right?

tommy shoved all of his feelings that rose to the surface back down, although not very well, he felt as if he was pushing and pushing yet they kept fighting back.

he took a deep breath before gently opening the door, repeating prayers that nobody would be there over and over and over. he peeked inside, nobody was there. he was good, for now.

he closed the door and felt a huge spike of panic inside of him when it let out the sound of the latch clicking. he waited a few seconds, nothing happened.

he'd made his way to his room, glancing around him the whole time, he knew wilbur would be home at this time, so it was a bit weird that he hasn't jumped out yet. it gave tommy a little bit of relief.

but of course, all good things come to an end.

tommy was greeted with curly brown hair, covering the eyes staring at him. there, on his bed, was the one person he was not looking forward to seeing today, and frankly, if he could, wanted to avoid.

wilbur.

"hi, tommy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i psychically hate this chapter, but i hope you enjoyed, sorry for making you wait, six days is a long time in my book and now i feel guilty lol <3  
> i only really write at night when i'm like really sad since this writing is literally the only healthy coping mechanism i have. you'll probably have to wait again, but like, probs much longer, sorry :'D
> 
> it's kind've all over the place and rlly rushed in the end since i was sleep deprived af while writing it and yk, food stuff and breakdowns that's always fun. yeah- sorry lmao.  
> also, just smth me and my friend thought of last night, hear me out, tubbo and tommy witch au?? like, witch cottage in a lavender field? yeah?? yeah? yeah.
> 
> drink some water, eat as much as you can even if it's just a little bit, get some rest, try and take care of yourself <3  
> ily


End file.
